


Abandoned places always carry that feeling...

by Insecuriosity



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Spacetime continuum, Time Shenanigans, Trapped, Wheeljack's Inventions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insecuriosity/pseuds/Insecuriosity
Summary: One of Wheeljack's inventions misfires, and sends Vortex and First Aid to a place that they have never seen before. Far enough way that sparkbonds and commlinks do nothing... and yet, there is something familiar about the atmosphere, and the metallic structure of the ground they walk on.They will have to work together if they want to find their way back to Earth.





	Abandoned places always carry that feeling...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ultharkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/gifts).



> Special thanks to Harutemu, who helped me tremendously in finishing this story when I was at my lowest (motivation) point! This story is the way it is because of you!

Wheeljack experiments went wrong often, and when they went wrong, they often did so spectacularly. It was never just a ‘bzzt’, a spark, and a non-functioning machine, but always explosions with effects that ranged from body alterations to a one-way ticket into deep space.

First Aid had been trying to stop Vortex from hooking himself up to Wheeljack’s newest invention. He didn’t know what its original function was supposed to have been – only that the attack on the Ark had been made purely so that the Decepticons could get to it. Vortex been trying to plug into it, and Prowl had ordered any nearby units to prevent that at any cost.  
Maybe it had been a bad idea to just grab the chords and yank them out. Maybe he should have shot Vortex, like every other Autobot probably would have done, maybe then it wouldn’t have exploded. But it had exploded, and now they were here. Wherever here was. 

First Aid stared up at the impossibly dark sky, and listened intently to the fuzzy static on his commlinks. No human radio signals. No cybertronian signals… and no sign of a communications blocker. Behind him, the remnants of Wheeljack’s machine were slowly burning away – creating a neat circle of light around Vortex and himself. 

“…You getting a signal? Contact or navigation?” Vortex’ voice was more static than voice, and thin wisps of smoke trailed from behind his blastmask as he spoke. The gun that he had aimed at First Aid was trembling minutely, and there were branching marks over his plating from the electricity that had crawled through his systems. “… Gestalt?”

“Nothing,” First Aid said, carefully keeping his hands where Vortex could see them. 

Vortex was in bad shape. It looked like it was costing him significant effort to stay crouched, and the thinner parts of his rotor blades had melted away.  
The cooler logical part of First Aid knew that it was only a matter of time before he would lower the gun and let First Aid repair him. The more emotional part was not available for commentary; First Aid suspected that that was due to shock. He’d been in some sticky situations, but he’d never gotten caught in a Wheeljack-level. All on his own. 

“Slag-sucking- … that fragger said it was going to explode at best-! Not fragging spacebridge me to some primus-forsaken…!” Vortex’s cursing trailed off into a series of coughs. 

“A lot of what Wheeljack makes explodes. There’s just always an extra effect involved,” First Aid said quietly. “Sometimes it’s just something like a new paintjob, or thinking you’re a human for a couple of hours … Sometimes you get shot through the spacetime fabric.”

Vortex groaned and rubbed his free hand into the seams of his helm, where his surface circuitry was probably still trying to reset from the amount of overcharge it had taken on. “… Not even just space huh?” He muttered, and his gaze slid up to the starless sky aboe them. 

First Aid knew better than to get into that. “… Can I come closer? To repair you?”

“Not even going to wait until we both agree on a truce before you patch me up?” Vortex’s visor went dim as he squinted at First Aid. “Oh. You’re _that_ mech. The disfunct that pets toasters and drones in his free time. That sure explains why I’m feeling a distinct lack of bullet holes in my chassis.” 

First Aid drew his shoulders up. “There’s nothing wrong with being compassionate.” He repeated for what felt like the thousandth time since waking up on Earth. “And if you were going to hurt me, you wouldn’t let a truce stop you anyway.”

Vortex snorted. He didn’t lower the gun, but the barrel slid off to somewhere on First Aid’s left and Vortex let himself fall into a more relaxed sitting position. “Come on then. Work your medic magic on me mech. I might even take you with me when I fly off this rock.” 

First Aid ignored the saucy wink that Vortex threw his way and carefully sat down to repair him. With how far the mech’s rotos had melted away, he really doubted that Vortex would be flying anywhere, let alone with a passenger.

 

-

Wheeljack’s machine was unsalvageable. In the time that it had taken to repair Vortex, the fire had turned any useful components into slag, and First Aid freely admitted to himself that he was far too afraid of another disaster if he fiddled with it too much. Still, he dutifully hovered around the molten pile of slag with his headlights on, doing his best to figure something out. Vortex, for his part, was staring into the darkness with his gun still in his lap.

“Do you know what this machine was supposed to do?”

“You’re the Autobot here, don’t you know what your scientists get up to?” Vortex shot back. He was waving his hand through the still dust and watching the patterns. “Or are you one of those naive bitlets the ‘bots pulled out of their aft and plonked down into war?” 

First Aid bit back the retort he had at the tip of his tongue. As if Vortex knew what Shockwave was doing back on Cybertron half the time! “No. My team and I were in stasis before the war – they just woke us up.”

“Woke you up and then loaded you up with some of the nicest propaganda they had on hand I bet. A lot can happen in a couple million years, you know. They can’t put everything into an hour-long recap.”

First Aid offlined his optics. He had plenty or arguments ready to go, but he’d been in enough discussions since waking up to know his priorities. Discussions on morality and ethics could wait until after they’d made it out of here alive. “Can you just answer the question.”

From the way Vortex’ motor revved, he was annoyed that First Aid wasn’t taking his bait. “As far as I know, was suppose to access some big mythical library-cache that was floating out in space.”

“Access from a _distance_ , right?”

Vortex shrugged. “I just know what Soundwave told me. Just goes to show, never trust that fragger. ‘Likelihood of unforeseen mishap;minimal’ my aft!”

First Aid squinted into the darkness. There was a lot of particles in the air, like grit settled on the bottom of an energon cube, and even with his headlights on he could barely see more than a few arm lengths.  
“Maybe it teleported us to the library?”

The look Vortex threw him in response spoke volumes. 

“Maybe it teleported us NEAR the library, and it’s within driving or walking distance…” First Aid mused.

“Well sure. Do you have a map or are there signs around here pointing us in the right direction?” Vortex bit back. “All I see here is dust, dust, and more dust.”

First Aid frowned. “You want to stay here and wait?”

“I didn’t say that! I’m just saying; I don’t want to walk off into some random direction without any idea of where we are going. My navigations are fried and honestly I don’t trust and Autodork like you to lead us anywhere useful.”

“… Not even if we have a road?” First Aid said. 

Vortex looked up from where he’d been poking at Wheeljack’s machine. Even with First Aid’s headlights on their strongest it was difficult to see far through the dust, but the band of lead at his pedes was unmistakably a road. A rural, _Cybertronian_ road.

\- 

“So. Any idea which backwater colony this could be?” Vortex said cheerily. His vents smelled of burnt electrics, and First Aid resisted the urge to pull away from the scent. “It’s got to be something at least reasonably big – most of those funny little neutral places barely bother to pave their roads.”

They were slowly walking shoulder to shoulder in the glow of First Aid’s headlights, peering at the ground in case that there would be an obstacle in their path. 

“They can’t afford to make good roads because of the war, and not every planet has the same resources as Cybertron does!” First Aid said before he could stop himself. It was a touchy subject with how Cybertron tended to view the colonists. “I mean. No. I don’t know which colony this could be.”

“Hmmm, so were you a colony bot? Sounding awfully defensive of those rusty neutral-bots.”

First Aid grit his dentae. Despite knowing of Vortex’s reputation as a nasty interrogator, it was becoming very difficult to ignore his words. He was like Jazz, in that he could mercilessly prod and poke your weak spots until you said something you didn’t mean to say.  
“Most colonies actually pick a location with one or more stars. Organic life can be very useful to make rare supplements or elements, and most of them need sunlight to stay alive.” He answered neutrally. “I… I don’t know what could have convinced anyone that this was a good planet to settle on. It’s so dark… I can’t see a single star out there.”

“Mm…they’re just behind clouds. Probably.” Vortex shrugged. “And I can see the appeal personally. It’s got that nice Cybertronian gravity pull, and the same kind of atmosphere. Low risk of oxidation, no fleshy-expelled gasses. Ugh, the amount of antoxidant treatments Hook makes us take back on Earth is unreal. Such a waste of time!”

“It’s basic self care! What kind of-… Wait, the atmosphere here is like Cybertron’s? This is what Cybertron feels like?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never even _been_ there! At this point the Autobots might as well hire random organics to fight their war for them!” Vortex chuckled. “Yea, this place is very similar to Cybertron. Mostly the cleaner cities like Iacon. Kaon and Tesarus airspace was all bogged down with disgusting scrap and trace elements, but I don’t suppose the Autobots ever told you-….Hey, why are we stopping?” 

First Aid was looking up at the sky, sweeping his sensors as high as they would go on their current settings. “I -… I’m trying to see if I can pick up any clouds up there.” 

Vortex looked as if he wanted to make a joke, but the frightened undertone in First Aid’s voice must have made him reconsider. “…Why?”

“Cybertron had acid rain.”

Vortex froze and whipped his head up so quickly that First Aid worried he would snap his neckstruts. “Oh frag. Didn’t think of that, fragggg. Fraggin- the one time I can actually use my damn sensors for something and they’re fried-! You know how to tweak your sensor suite?!”

“I have Blades in my gestalt, I know how to!” First Aid replied tensely. A few moments later, he let his shoulders fall with relief. “Thank Primus… there’s no clouds up there. Nothing but open sky.”

“Oh that’s good. Phew! Thought I might have had to use you for an umbrella there!” Vortex patted his hand on First Aid’s shoulder, momentarily gripping one of his wheels to give him a reassuring shake. It was a gesture with more familiarity than First Aid thought they shared, but it was welcome enough – he’d seen what Prowl’s acid pellets could do to a bot, and Cybertrons’s acid rain had been about that concentrated.  
He awkwardly patted Vortex back on a piece of undamaged shoulder-armour, and together they began walking down the road again. 

“Vortex… Do you know of a region in space where you can’t see any stars?” First Aid asked a while later, when the initial relief disappeared under the oppressive silence around them. 

“No.” Vortex said. He threw his arm around First Aid and pulled him in close. “But as soon as we find one of the neutral fraggers that took up residence here, we’ll know. Promise.” 

First Aid ignored how he lifted his gun to glint in the light. 

-

Vortex noticed them first.

First Aid was distracted. He had become used to supporting wounded mecha over rough terrain. There was a rythym to it that one settled into – a slow dance that demanded constant focus and flexibility from the medic supporting the patient. He had been too busy making sure he kept pressure off Vortex’s wounded leg, and that he avoided any potential rocks or gaps on the road they were following. It was only because of his dedicated focus that the two of them didn’t go sprawling when Vortex jolted to a stop and yelled something into the dark. 

“Hey there buddy! Care to stop gawking and start helping!? You can start by putting up your hands, walking into my other buddy’s headlights, and showing your faction!” Vortex yelled - pointing his gun at something off to their left.

“Who-?...” First Aid didn’t have to look far. 

A pair of blue optics was watching them from a distance. In the darkness it was impossible to see their silhouette, and the mech ( or femme ) had no biolights. First Aid’s spark soared with relief. The complete lack of movement or noise from the darkness around them had been more stressful than he’d thought. 

The mech didn’t move. First Aid’s spark filled with empathy. Most likely, they had never been held at gunpoint before. 

“They’re not going to help us if you threaten them! Put that away” He hissed to Vortex, hurriedly pushing the barrel of Vortex’s gun down.

Vortex laughed, though it sounded more like he wanted to growl. “You’re such an Autobot it’s not even funny. With enough threat, he’s going to do exactly what we want him to, isn’t he?”

The optics in the dark blinked. 

“We need help Vortex!” First Aid stage-whispered. “If he runs off we’re right back where we started, only with new enemies!”

“If he runs, I’ll just shoot his legs out from under him! Primus why is this complicated to you?” Vortex bit back, far too loud for First Aid’s liking.

Ignoring him, First Aid tightened his grip around the gun and aimed it firmly at the ground. “I’m sorry about my… about Vortex. He is a De-…” This would probably be a bad time to get into the can of worms that was Decepticons and Autobots. “Um. Nevermind. We do actually need help, but we won’t shoot you. I mean, I won’t let him shoot you.”

“As if you could stop me if I wanted to.” Vortex snorted, but he had stopped trying to aim at the stranger. First Aid didn’t miss the slight tremble in his arm – most likely, all the electrical damage hadn’t given him much of a choice.

The stranger mech said nothing. Behind him, quite a distance away, First Aid thought he could see a second pair of optics in the dark. Red this time – just as still and focusing on them. 

“We don’t know where we are, and we would like to go back to where we came from. My name is First Aid and this is Vortex. We were damaged in the crash as well.” First Aid explained, carefully inching closer to the mech with Vortex at his side. He squinted into the murky darkness. He should have been able to see at least the mech’s outline by now, or a hint of his biolighting… “Um…. Hello? Can you say something, please?”

The optics blinked shut, and First Aid’s headlights were finally close enough to shine upon-…. Nothing. Where the optics had been hovering was just more empty space, and the same _undisturbed_ floating dust. 

“The frag?” Vortex said. “Did he run?”

“I-…” First Aid didn’t finish his sentence. A little further ahead, two more pairs of optics had opened up. Two tiny ones – probably only fit for a cassette - and a double visor. Yellow and Green. “Hello?! Are… We don’t mean you any harm, I promise! Can you let us see you?”

The tiny green optics fluttered open and closed, but there was no reply. First Aid grunted, and slowly continued approaching this new stranger in the dark.

Vortex leaned closer to First Aid – his vents still smelled of electric burns – and whispered against his right audial. “The ‘let’s just shoot this aft’-plan is still on available...” 

He had barely finished talking when the green optics closed, and three voices spoke up in First Aid’s left audial – close enough that he should have been able to feel their lipplates against his battlemask, or the tingle of their pulled-in energy fields. He felt neither. 

“…Shhht…sh sh…” One said.  
“Under nathsash… under nathsash.” A throatier one said.  
The third was incomprehensible. More static and binary than anything else.  
“….4…” 

Vortex fired his gun. First Aid whipped around. His headlights showed nothing but still dust, and a singing little spot on the road where Vortex’s bullet had landed. 

“…did I get it? Whatever the frag it was?” Vortex said. His visor was washed out and pale, and First Aid wondered if it was because of the pain from the sudden movement, or if he was feeling just as uncomfortable as First Aid was. 

“N-no, you missed-… I don’t think there was anybody there.” 

There were more optics in the dark now. They were spread out across the darkness – and First Aid couldn’t say if any of them were the same as the ones from before. 

“This isn’t funny, you fraggers!” Vortex yelled. “Either help us or leave us the frag alone, yea?! I’m not going to miss a second time!” His rotors were flared and trembling in a threat display that proved how uneasy he was. 

First Aid quietly sidled in next to him and cautiously slung Vortex’s unoccupied arm around his shoulder so he could support him. “Let’s just move on, okay?”

“They’re still watching!” Vortex hissed. “They want something – they’re not just going to let us go!”

Maybe they wouldn’t have done so if Vortex hadn’t started out threatening them and waving his gun around. Maybe they would have helped them if Vortex hadn’t shot at them when they came in close. First Aid didn’t voice his thoughts, and instead began pulling Vortex further down the road. Vortex followed his lead without a word. 

The optics kept on watching, disappearing and appearing in the dark without a sound. 

\- 

“… You getting enough energon?” Vortex asked out of the blue. He had finally given up on waving his gun around, and was putting in a valiable effort to ignore the optics that followed them. 

First Aid blinked. “It’ll be a while before I run out of my emergency cubes – my team is… was always moving around a lot, and I always took everyone’s rations. We should be fine for at least a stellar cycle. Why do you ask?”

Vortex shrugged. It was an uncomfortable gesture with how First Aid was trying to support him. “Your headlight’s been getting dimmer.”

“…Has it?” First Aid’s diagnostics were sending him a mostly-clear across the board. It wasn’t all perfect, but it had been stable since arriving here. His lights should be as bright as before. Maybe it was Vortex’ optics playing up …? “How can you tell?” 

Vortex jerked his head towards a pair of optics standing to their right. “They’re standing closer than before. A few cycles ago, you could have reached him with your headlights.”

First Aid shook his head. “My headlights haven’t changed since we arrived here – they’re stable as can be and running at maximum power. Maybe they are …. Um… getting used to us. Daring to get closer.”

“No, it’s your lights!” Vortex’s field was crinkly with annoyance. “Your diagnostics are just slagged – mine have been telling me about repairs and damage that isn’t even showing up on my frame.”

First Aid frowned. “You sustained heavy damage to your electronics from messing with Wheeljack’s machine, of course your diagnostics will be inaccurate. It’s got nothing to do with this place. My diagnostics and my headlights are working fine.”

“Are you blind or in denial?! Your light is getting weaker!” Vortex’ field became prickly with agitation. “Look, will you just crank out some more light then? I don’t want those creepy slagheads getting any closer.”

“My lights are already at maximum, it won’t do anything but force the extra energy back into my tank and make me sick.” First Aid said. He would have to check Vortex’s optics the next time they paused for a cube of energon. 

“Just do it, okay!” 

“If it will make you feel better-…” First Aid said. Vortex engine made a grumbly snarl. “I’ll put some more energon towards my lighting systems now.”

He rerouted some more energon to his headlights, fully expecting nothing to happen. Instead, his headlights flared up bright, and his vision went spotty. All of a sudden, he was leaning on Vortex instead of Vortex leaning on him, and the starting tingles of energon deprivation made themselves known in the tips of his fingers. His diagnostics reported nothing out of the ordinary – he was fully functional and well fuelled. 

First Aid cut back his lights, and the energon he had allotted to his electrical systems flooded back into his tank. Vortex had been right – he hadn’t been running on maximum light. 

“Autobot?! What’s going on! Hey!” Vortex shook him, and First Aid resisted the urge to snap at him. How could a soldier not know to never shake someone who was injured? The amount of connectors and joints that could snap out of place…

“St-stop shaking me… My diagnostics are not working right. They’re telling me I’m fine, but I almost threw myself into stasis lock trying to light my headlights…”

“Fragging told you. How long do you think you can keep a light on?”

Vortex sounded not nearly as smug about being right as First Aid had expected. He sounded almost scared. It was almost ridiculous to think of a seasoned warrior as someone who would be scared of the dark, but First Aid wasn’t nearly as comfortable with complete blindness as he’d thought he would be. He could get by on touch and sensors… But there was nothing here to touch. Sensors didn’t catch anything, but there were mecha out there in the darkness-… 

“I don’t know. I have some more energon, but I don’t -… I don’t think my system is taking it in right. Maybe a cycle? A few joors?”

Vortex’s body language and voice didn’t betray him, but the washed-out tinge in his visor did. “Let’s keep moving then.”

-

First Aid didn’t trust his chronometer anymore. According to the numbers that were ticking up, they had been walking for only a couple of joor, but it felt like several cycles had passed. They had stopped to fuel at least three times and already he felt like he could use a little more energon.  
Shouldn’t everything have gotten resolved by now? He knew Wheeljack could get up to some really crazy stuff, but he was always there to fix things. Perceptor practically had a degree in solving the problems that Wheeljack’s creations caused! First Aid really really hoped that he wouldn’t be one of the few victims that never recovered from their incident. 

There weren’t a lot of stories about the mecha that had disappeared while using one of Wheeljack’s inventions. Most of them were Decepticons, and since they were the enemy nobody really cared if they never returned. One less enemy to worry about. First Aid glanced to the side, where the still optics still watched them from the dark. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm?” First Aid said distractedly. 

“... How long have we been in a city?” Vortex said

“What?” First Aid jolted free from his thoughts. He had been looking at the ground – his headlights never showed anything more than just dust, dust, and more dust. Except this time, apparently. 

They were standing in front of a habtower. In the scarce glow of First Aid’s headlights, it was impossible to say what colour the metal was – just that it was brand new, and of archaic design. First Aid hadn’t seen name-plates in use anywhere for … well, for as long as he could remember, really.

“We found it? We found it!” He let go of Vortex, and hurried towards the row of buttons and names. “Now we can ask for help, finally!”

“Mech, this place has been nothing but dead and creepy, we’re not going to get help here because you rung someone’s doorbell! If we were going to find help from the mecha here we would have found it when you started begging them for it in the dark!”

First Aid ignored him and pressed one of the buttons. “All we need is just some fuel and a commlink connection to Earth – any city has those! Even if the people inside don’t want to help, we can just ask for directions!” 

“That’s assuming this place is a city at all and not just some weird alternate dimention nightmare.” Vortex murmured as he dragged himself closer and squinted at the nameplates. A moment later, the low-quality speakers of the building activated with a harsh crackle, and a teensy red light flickered on.

“Hello?” First Aid said. 

“I know what you must be thinking…But it’s worse than it looks.” A voice replied on the other end. Its husky whispering sounded familiar. “It’s best not to fight them. It will be over soon.”

First Aid cringed. He had been hoping for something that wouldn’t be unsettling and uncomfortable. But, at least someone was talking to them “I don’t know what you’re talking about sir. We just want to be gone from here, but we need some help.”

“Hey, are you talking about the creeps following us?” Vortex growled. “They don’t know who they’re messing with – they should be afraid of fighting ME!”

The voice on the other end laughed quietly – the same way that a mech on their deathbed might laugh at a half-assed joke. “It’ll be good to have such lively company.” The speaker crackled, as if someone had clacked the microphone against a hard surface. “It has been so long. Everything has gone back to dust and shadows, in between this visit and the last. I wonder how much you’ll be adding.”

“Sir, you’re … you’re making me very uncomfortable. Can you help us? We need directions to the space bridge, or a deep space comms station. Please?” First Aid said. He didn’t want to think about what the mech on the other end was talking about. 

“… should be fine….” The mech on the other end murmured as if talking to someone else. 

“Is this guy serious? Fraggin’ answer!” Vortex snarled. 

“….” There was no reply. Only the white noise of a badly calibrated microphone. 

“…Sir? Are you still there?” First Aid prodded gently. 

“Fragging- stop trying to coddle these fragheads-!” Vortex snarled. “Listen, mech, you’re going to tell us how to get out, or how to get some energon and a frag, or I’m flying up there and shoving my gun down your audial!”

The mech hummed softly, and a moment later the static went silent. The little red light that had been blinking turned off, and the machine looked as dead as it had been before. 

“Did he just-! … I’m getting really tired of all the uncommunicative slagheads around here!” Vortex snarled. He jabbed his finger onto the call button again but the light didn’t turn back on. “You hear me mech?! You better hope I never find your sorry aft out there, or I will destroy you! What’s this fragger’s name-!” He glared the nameplates as if trying to melt the metal with his optics. 

First Aid didn’t bother to look at who they had called, and instead carefully wrapped an arm around Vortex to lead him away from the building. “Let’s just look through the city on our own, okay? Revenge can wait until after we’ve had energon. Or until we’ve found our way home.”

“’Find our way home’, ‘find our way home’! You say that as if we’re going to find a map with directions around the corner! This place is wrong, and it’s… it’s just WRONG!” Vortex’ engine whirred, and the sound echoed between the buildings. 

First Aid couldn’t find it in him to disagree. It had been a while since they’d last discussed their location – back when they’d thought they were just in a cave, or under a blanket of clouds on a remote planet. 

“…Let’s … let’s try and be positive okay?” First Aid murmured. “This city is weirdly elaborate and uh, Cybertronian, but maybe we can find that space bridge ourselves and power it on? Or a commlink station.”

Vortex didn’t seem enthused. Or like he had heard First Aid at all. “Sure.” He mumbled. 

-

The city they were in was big. The single road they had been following had slowly gained more and more lanes, and the roads were starting to overlap – smooth and pleasant dips and rises that would have been a joy to traverse in alt mode.  
There were more habsuit towers. All of them were locked so thoroughly that even multiple shots from Vortex’s weapons couldn’t get in, and all of them were dark. There was litter on the streets, as if groups of mecha had left a trail through the city and the cleaning crew hadn’t showed up yet. 

And it was silent. Just as silent as before, when it really should have been filled with the background noise of any city. The optics were still there, disappearing and appearing between buildings that were invisible in the darkness. First Aid wondered how they were so clear and bright through all the dust that was floating around. 

They had tried to contact more mecha by pressing the call buttons on the habsuite towers. Most of the time, their only reward was silence. Sometimes the speaker would turn on and fill the darkness with static until they walked far enough away not to hear it anymore. 

“I get the feeling that it’ll be really bad if your light goes out.” Vortex said when they were taking a break on the stairs of an imposing and empty building. First Aid’s light had been deteriorating still, and it seemed like First Aid couldn’t drink enough energon to compensate for the amount of energy that his lights needed. 

“We should still have our sensors.” First Aid replied, even though the thought of trying to walk in the pure darkness was not something he was looking forward to. “We would just be slower.” 

“Do you think the optics out there used to be mecha like us?” Vortex said, as if First Aid hadn’t said anything at all. “Maybe once we’re out there, in the dark I mean, we’ll be just another pair of weird floating optics. I wonder if that’ll get rid of that infernal crick I have in my neck – that’d be a silver lining.”

First Aid cringed, throwing a glance at a pair of yellow optics that was so low to the grond that it could only belong to a minibot. “I don’t know. I don’t-… I don’t want to think about that. I still have plenty of energon with me, we’ll find some way out before I run out. So it’s useless to think of what the dark could do. Since we’re going to make it.” 

Vortex ignored him. He had turned to the optics watching from outside their tiny circle of light. “Hey GUYS! Am I anywhere near the truth huh? Or are you guys like really whimpy spark-eaters that can’t eat people unless they’re in the dark?”

“Vortex!” First Aid glanced at the darkness again. Was it just him, or had they come closer in the time he’d spent looking down at the floor. “Shut up. Please.” 

“Oh come on. I’m just trying to make sense of things and play around – nothing else we’re doing is of any use anyway! Might as well theorise and have some fun.”

“Fun!?” First Aid echoed incredulously. They were trapped and living on borrowed time in a crazy place that could very well _kill_ them… And Vortex was having fun?!

Vortex rolled his head in the way that visor-wearing mecha showed their exasperation. “Honestly, we’re all at war, you can’t tell me your side doesn’t joke around with death. Even that guy with the stick up his aft has got to cut loose sometime right?” Vortex chuckled in a way that seemed to echo among the empty buildings. “We’re not going to get out of here anyway. We haven’t gotten any closer to finding a way out, and I’d honestly much rather die doing something fun than running around like a fleshie on a battlefield.” 

First Aid stood. “Let’s move. We need to keep going.”

Vortex scowled. “What’s the use? My leg hurts, there’s a bunch of voyeurs in the dark, and I don’t want to think about my impending death at the hand of some creepy darkness people. There, you got me to say it. I wanna die happy, warm, and preferably coming down from a great overload.”

“I want to make it out alive!” First Aid replied. “You’re saying all these things about monsters and death but we’re both okay and we don’t know if what’s out there is dangerous. You’re acting like we’re already offline, but we got here somehow, and that means we can get back! ”

Vortex snorted. “Sure buddy, sure. Why not compromise – you give me my happy ending, and then you can go ahead and drag my corpse-to-be around this hellhole until your light goes out. Sound good?” He had a big grin on his face, and he tilted his head towards the optics watching them. “I don’t know about you, but being watched-… that’s my kink.”

First Aid had had enough. Without another word, he turned around and stalked off into the darkness, leaving Vortex behind in the dark. 

“HEY! Wait up fraggit, I got a bum leg over here!” Vortex yelped, and First Aid could hear him stumble upright with a pained groan. He couldn’t find it in himself to muster much sympathy. “Can’t you take a fragging joke?!”

First Aid didn’t stop to wait for him. He didn’t think that propositions and morbid death-predictions qualified as a joke. He wasn’t pretending like he couldn’t see how dire their situation was, but lingering on how he was going to die here was enough to freeze the fuel in his lines. He wanted to go down knowing that he’d done everything he could – not having wasted time on how horrible his offlining would be!  
The fact that Vortex was trying to follow him through the dark – without immediately getting swarmed by angry optic-people by the way – was proof enough to First Aid that his morose talk had been nothing but a waste of time. 

“Autobot! Hey-… HEY! Fragwhat’syourname – WAIT!” Vortex’ voice sounded frightened, and a sick little part of First Aid felt pleased about that. A much larger part of him felt an acute stab of guilt that had him cringing where he stood. He stopped and turned, expecting Vortex to stumble into the light any moment. He couldn’t see Vortex’s optical band in the dark. There were optics, watching as usual, but none of them were moving.

And… it was silent. The noises of Vortex’ mismatched steps as he’d tried to follow him were gone. 

Both anger and anxiety reared its head. Anger, because he could see Vortex trying to scare him even more, making fun of him for asking him to stop. Anxiety because _he couldn’t find Vortex_ and being alone in this place was worse than being here with a Decepticon. 

“Vortex? I’m-… I can’t see you – just say something and I’ll come your way.”

There was no answer from anywhere in the dark, and First Aid reluctantly began to find his way back to their impromptu camp. He had walked off with no real plan – with some of his cubes still standing on the steps – and he was sorely regretting his choice.  
With how little he could see in his headlights, it was difficult to find the exact spot where he had been sitting with Vortex. The stairs were broad and unmarred, and First Aid had no idea how far they went up. 

“Vortex? I-… are you okay? Please say something.” 

A few moments later, he had found their camp. The cubes were still sitting there, including the one that Vortex had been sipping from. It had fallen to the ground, and energon was splattered all over the steps. First Aid wasn’t sure – couldn’t be sure, didn’t want to be sure – that all of the spilled energon could have come from the cube. It splattered farther than it should have.

“Vortex!” This time he raised his voice. Still no answer. “VORTEX?! Where are you?! If-… if this some kind of joke, it is NOT funny. Please!” 

The optics in the dark watched. There was no red visor amongs them. 

-

It became, if possible, even harder to keep track of time without Vortex. 

First Aid walked around the empty city like a straggler – aimlessly bouncing from building to building – wearing out his fingers from trying to pry open the deceptively fragile-looking but impenetrable doors. 

Vortex’ guesses on what this place was were haunting him as the silence stretched and stretched. Had something in the dark taken him? He thought he had gotten used to the optics that were still watching him, but without Vortex’ commentary and having to support his damaged frame, they were starting to get to him. It was hard to tell, but it seemed like they were getting closer – and moving alongside of him as he walked his way through the city. 

And then there were the whispers. 

He thought there had only been one isolated time where the voices had rushed up to his audial to say random nonsense, but without the sounds of Vortex’ labouring frame and armour scraping together as they stumbled around, he could hear them clearer than ever. Whispering in the dark. They weren’t always loud enough to catch what exactly they were saying, but he caught his name more than once – as if he were walking past the rec room where a group of mecha was talking behind his back and falling into a giggling silence whenever he stopped to listen.  
The few times where he caught a sentence or two, he couldn’t make heads or tails out of it. 

“...Four hundred and fifty two.” A smug and satiated voice would state.  
“Arkankarnk……arnkankank.” One would echo – more like a vocaliser error than words.  
“…always brighter-… his paintjob flaking…” Like he was walking past someone on the street, catching half of their commlink-conversation.  
“… are you listening?”

First Aid began to hum as loud as he could without hearing his own vocaliser echo back, and started stomping his feet as he walked. He didn’t want to hear them anymore than he had to.

-

First Aid had never had trouble in navigating big cities. At their very core, big cities were meant to be traversed, and augmented to make finding your way easy. And he had had Streetwise on his team – the mech that could have been a private chauffeur with how well he knew the alleyways and shortcuts. But that was a city that was actually lit up when it became dark. A city with a healthy night-life where you could approach an enforcer or a not-too-drunk partyer to ask for directions. A city where you could walk into a small bar and order a drink as you subtly asked the bartender for directions.  
Clouded in darkness, the city he was in was a maze. 

“If it even is a city.” First Aid murmured to himself, parroting Vortex. What was a city without the hustle and bustle that made it, well… a city? 

He stopped at a neat set of stairs, and stared down balefully at the well-shaped metal. Without knowing what the building at the end of it looked like, he couldn’t even tell if he’d already been here before or not. 

“…shouldn’t be bothering him you know….” One of the voices whispered idly.  
“-investments around cycle 1287. 86 DG plummeted -…” Another added helpfully.  
“Krr…krrkkrkkk….kkkrk” Static.  
He had heard it all before. Useless bits of words, or just unsettling phrases that made shivers go up his backstrut. The sound of footsteps on metal. 

First Aid jolted and nearly overstretched a cable in his neck with how fast he whipped his head towards the sound. Footsteps?! “… Vortex!?” 

It wasn’t Vortex. One pair of the ever-present, ever watchful optics had stopped looking at First Aid. At his exclamation, they briefly turned back to him, before twisting away and walking off into the dark. 

First Aid didn’t even need to think about if he wanted to follow or not. The footsteps sounded _real_. There WERE mecha out there, watching him, and the relief of not being alone and trapped was only barely strong enough to drown out the anger and fear that laid underneath.  
“Wait – WAIT! Please help! Mech? Femme?! Sir, miss-!” 

First Aid put everything into catching up, watching as the stranger came closer and closer. He could see the glow of their optics on the dust that surrounded them, and hear the muted sounds of their frame. 

“Please- Please, I need help, don’t leave me out here on my own-!”

He had planned to grab the mech by the shoulder. Perhaps cling to them like a barnacle and stare into the face of someone who could end up being his saviour-  
Instead, just as he was about to shine his headlights on the mech, the optics closed and the footsteps stopped. Undisturbed dust. Nobody there. 

“… probably not getting through…”  
“Galacticius Prime has revealed the third revision of act 25-…”  
“Hello? Can you hear me? … Can he hear me? … Good.”

Before First Aid could sink to the ground with the shards of his freshly dashed hopes, the footsteps sounded again. 

He looked up slower this time. This time, the optics that had begun to move were yellow, but they were going in the same direction as the previous pair. Maybe to seem friendly, maybe to twist the knife, the optics beckoned left in a ‘come on, get going’-motion, before walking on. 

First Aid didn’t know if following them was a smart idea. But he had no other ideas to speak of. He got up, and slowly followed the yellow optics. 

“- high traffic is expected around roadknot 34B and 2K so inquire-…“  
“Seems like it won’t be long now.”  
“… It’s so bright here. Can someone turn off that light?”

First Aid pretended he didn’t hear them. Just as he pretended that that last whisper had been a random blurb of nothing, and not a reference to his glowing headlights. 

-

The optics were leading him somewhere. 

The longer he following them, the more of the watchful optics turned away and joined him on his way. Their footsteps, paired with the whispering murmurs in the dark almost succeeded in making the city feel alive. He didn’t know where they were going, but a crowd was starting to form around him. Optics and visors of all kinds bobbing with different gaits – fast dribbles up and down, or slow lumbering steps.  
The whispers were growing incessant. They weren’t tied to the optics – that much First Aid knew for sure. Sometimes, a pair of optics would walk just outside of his lights, either because he was walking faster than them or because they were faster than him – but the whispers never belonged to the optics. 

Additionally, the whispers were growing… specific. 

_“First Aid.”_ They would whisper with every third random sentence. They used voices that were familiar. Far away and distorted, as they would be should someone call over a fragile long-distance connection.

“-latest book by Carburat Torrents on his way to fame-”  
“-want to go home, please let me go home…” Crying, soft crying.  
“I’ve forgotten what that felt like, but looking at pictures works too.”

 _“Turn off your light First Aid. Please.”_

First Aid didn’t stop walking. He had stopped the first few times he’d recognised the voice from the dark. He had asked Blades to step into the light, if he was really here. He had asked Ratchet to throw one of his wrenches, if he couldn’t enter into the light himself. They couldn’t do it, and First Aid couldn’t stop remembering Vortex’ panicked cries in the dark, and coming back to spilled energon between the seams of the stairs. 

“- should never follow strangers without a plan or friend to-”  
“-crippling fear of darkness, also known as Nyctophobia-”  
“We erected statues. They have eroded.”

-

The optics were leading him to a tower. A _lit_ tower. 

First Aid almost though something had gone wrong with his optics – to see a source of light that wasn’t from his own frame. But there it was. A high tower – almost worthy of being one of Vos’ aeries – with a red light that flared on and off like a beacon. And at the base, a tiny but painfully bright light, shining down on what had to be a console.  
First Aid broke into a jog. And then into a full-on run. His headlights had dimmed far enough that he could barely see his own pedes if he looked down, and he had run out of energon joors ago ( if his chronometer was to be trusted ). He’d never thought that a source of light could bring so much relief. He’d never thought that there could be a place this dark. 

The whispers followed him as he ran, loud enough that he would have called them ‘excited’ if they didn’t sound so _displeased_ with him. Well. The ones that knew his name anyway. 

_“Aid! Aid, please-!”_ Streetwise this time. Still distorted – still not real.  
“Forecast is a 4.5 on the safety scale, so make sure to pack up on your-”  
_“Just listen man, turn off your light. You know what I mean don’t you? He knows, doesn’t he?”_ Grooves.  
“The act ensured a stable economy between the two districts for at least a centavorn, before the legislation of Grima’s Council-”

He burst into the small well-lit circle, and almost crashed against the console. The optics have all stopped at the edge of the light – their footsteps now silent and their watchful behaviour right back to square one.  
First Aid doesn’t waste time lingering on the discomfort that their gazes bring, and instead turns to the console. Just as anything Vortex and him discovered, it is pristine and dated at the same time. There are no holo-screens or EM-field controllable inputs. Everything is analog and strudy – made out of medicinal-grade metals and silicones. 

The screen is already powered on. It’s an inviting light blue, with a simple yet stylish abstract design over the whole screen. It looks like a public-access computer – the kind that he recognises from the archivist back at the settlement where he was onlined. All the common programs are locked – pictograms deleted from the home page, and the task-queue hidden by the administrator.  
The only thing it displays is a simple box with a single line of text. 

//to start Download;//  
//Link up using IF cable 3b or otherwise compatible//  
//lower internal firewalls//  
//wait for initation and confirmation of download// 

His first instinct was to close the program. He couldn’t be any less interested in a download. He wanted this computer’s commlink access – it’s network. Information could come later. He moved the outdated external mouse rapidly to find the cursor, and cursed when he found it stuck in a corner of the screen – wiggling as if magnified whenever he moved the mouse. Locked. Keyboard commands it was!  
He looked down. No keyboard. The only thing in front of him was a screen, and a broad selection of ports and cables to connect to.

First Aid took out his cable, reached out to the right port -… and paused. Everything in him knew that it wasn’t smart to download something from an unknown source. But what else could he do? There was nothing out there, in the darkness. His only other choice was to

“… Turn off your lights.” 

First Aid flinched. The voice hadn’t whispered. It had crackled as if it was being pushed through world’s most shoddy connection, but it hadn’t whispered. It sounded like Ratchet was really standing there in the dark- just a few steps away.  
His visor roved over the optics just outside of the light. Too many of them were blue – too many of them could be Ratchet. 

“First Aid, come back man. Please. Follow our voice!” Grooves again.  
“Go into the dark. Vortex is back here, with us. He says you need to step into the dark, it’s how he got back!” Hot spot this time.

“Why doesn’t Vortex tell me that himself? Why if-… if you’re all safe out there, then why isn’t Vortex there with you!?” First Aid shot into the dark, unable to kepe the wavering from his voice. “Why don’t you give me a sign that you’re really here?!”

“Turn off your lights Aid, please.”

“You need to terminate the connection.” Hoist- Primus that was Hoist’s voice, and he sounded cold and professional. The way he did when lives were on the line. Despite himself, a jolt of fear went through him. Was he talking to First Aid, or was he talking _about_ First Aid?

“That is an ORDER, you hear me?!” Ratchet again. 

“Where’s Vortex?” First Aid asked the darkness. The voices continued to beg – crowding out the whispers that spoke about nonsense, and being lost in the dark. “I’m not doing anything that you tell me to, not when you’re not answering me!”  
He turned back to the console, and glanced between his cable and the open ports on the machine. Maybe the key out of here was in that download. A code to open a hatch so he could climb out. A commlink number so he could call for a rescue and wait to be picked up-… He prepared himself, and reached out to plug himself in-

“Heyy, you Autobot fragger.” Vortex’ voice suddenly spoke up. “How you doing in there huh? Having fun? Yea, I bet you are. All alone ‘n scared and feeling oh so guilty…”

First Aid stopped. “Vortex? Is that really you or -…. ”

Vortex acted as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “Thanks for throwing me to the Sharkticons back there. No really. Thanks. It’s the way out. Seems counterproductive, but that’s the way it is. I told your little friends what to say – they’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but looks like you’ve gotten deaf in the time that you left me for dead and now. Heh. Didn’t think you’d have it in you to be that cold blooded. Proud of you~!”

“I-… I didn’t know what would happen – I didn’t think you would-” First Aid stammered, glancing between the several red visors in the crowd around him.

“Your lights were running out anyway so you would have come back no matter what. I don’t know why these guys are all freaking out, but apparently it’s important you come out of there really quick.” Vortex continued. “Anyway, that’s all I gotta say. See you, or die there. Whatever works for you.”

“Wait – wait! Vortex! Can you even hear me?!” 

There was no reply from the dark, and without the volume of Vortex’ speaking voice, the other whispers were making a return. They no longer said his name, or asked him to turn off his lights. 

“Today, on the 7th cycle of Trinicus, Cybertron has officially left the third arm of the current galacy and is heading towards-”  
“We need you.”  
“-concludes our show for today! Thank you all so much for tuning in, and see you in twelve and a half joor!”  
“Please… I’ve been so lonely. So bored.”

“Vortex? Hot spot? … Anyone?” First Aid steps closer to the dark. His headlights are not completely out of juice yet, and when he reaches the edge of the light-circle, the optics in front of him close and disappear – as if wading away to make room for him. 

“- but Piston will miss you…”  
“-ain’t around, why not look in the lost and found?!”  
“Sixteenth cycle. Fourteenth joor. Third klik.”  
“Are you sure? Are you sure?”

He looks back at the console, and then up at the slowly blinking red light at the very tip of the tower. There’re no other buildings for the light to reflect on, and the sky is still completely empty of stars.  
Behind him, the voices of his gestalt and the others return – still repeating their messages, only now with an occasional ‘Listen to Vortex’ or ‘Listen to Ratchet’ thrown in. 

First Aid eyed the bright and inviting blue screen. Even if he assumes that there is the best possible download waiting for him on the other end of those ports -… the promise of being free just by walking into the dark is compelling.  
Ratchet and Hoist and the others would have no idea where he was, right? But Vortex would. How would they know to tell him to turn off his light, unless Vortex was back with them, and had told them? 

He looked back at the darkness. It didn’t look any less unpleasant and empty. The energon on the staircase flicked through his processor. … but it could have been just a spill from Vortex’ abandoned cube…

He began to walk into the dark. His headlights were flickering, on the verge of going out, and he couldn’t see the ground anymore. His hips disappeared into the darkness. He walked on ahead, still not quite daring to shut off the lights himself. The whispers continued, and as the light from his headlights became fainter and fainter, he began to feel fields reaching out to him. A good sign? A bad one? He continued.  
His headlights grew dimmer and dimmer. He could only really see a small section around his headlights now- and the optics were following his movements again. He turned around to throw a last glance at the light he had left behind- and found it _flickering_. The sea of optics that had led him to it were all watching him again and there was another whisper right near his head.

“… Last chance.”  
“Final offer.” 

He hesitated. Everything in him was screaming to run back to the light – to not get trapped in the dark alone with nothing but those damn optics – but what Vortex said made sense. Just a hallucination. Just a weird trap - … that you need to die for to escape. 

First Aid took a few steps back from the flickering light. A few more -…

And then he felt clawed hands wrap around his arms – tight enough to make him cry out. Arms circled around his legs – pressing them so tightly together that his plating dented. The voices that had been whispering all rushed towards him, all speaking in his ears- in his face- 

“Vortex-!” He screamed. “Help- HELP!” 

The next sets of clawed hands wrapped around his visor, snuck into the gap between his face and facemask, and curled closed around his vocaliser. The weak glow from his headlights showed only dust – swirling with the force of his struggle.  
The more he struggled, the tighter the hands and claws held him. His frame groaned and creaked as dozens of cold bodies pressed against him as if trying to flatten him between their armour. He felt his visor begin to crack – and one of the hands finally found the energon line that supplied his processor with energy. 

First Aid couldn’t tell when the darkness of the world became the darkness of oblivion. 

-

He wasn’t dead when he onlined again. He wasn’t even damaged or low on fuel – just suffering from an elevated spark-pulse due to stress. Ratchet hadn’t even insisted on berth-rest!

“So what was it?” First Aid asked quietly. “The place. Where we were stuck.”

He was sitting at the cosiest and best-lit part of the rec room, wrapped in Streetwise’s comfort-tarp, with a warm cup of flavoured low-grade between his hands. He hadn’t taken a sip yet – the shaking in his hands hadn’t calmed down enough for him to do so without spilling. 

“We’re not completely sure, but we have a well-educated guess.” Perceptor said from across the table. “The machine was built to access an old lost library from around the first Golden Age. It was a cumulation of all Cybertronian knowledge, archived and protected by an elaborate AI, which supposedly had information on creating synthetic energon out of common components, and constructing things that we consider to be priceless relics in this day and age. Most likely, this library never existed, and Wheeljack’s machine connected to a yet unidentified signal across space.”

First Aid stared into his midgrade. Even with all the lights on and with Grooves carefully rubbing his back, he swore he could still hear the whispers underneath the white noise of the rec room. 

“Orrr, we actually DID contact the library and it was just a little corrupted.” Wheeljack offered. “I mean, if I made a humongous library with all knowledge ever, I’d probably stick it in a cool Virtual reality. I mean, we don’t _know_ what kind of library it was, so it could have been the library.”

Perceptor frowned. “As you say, we don’t know what the machine connected to, and judging from the state in which Vortex and First Aid emerged from it, I doubt it was a library. Not to mention what they described of the place.”

“I’m telling you – virtual reality library gone wrong.” Wheeljack said, his arms crossed petulantly. “All it needs is a couple of tweaks – and now that we’ve had some mecha in there to see what went wrong, we can take precautions. You mentioned a download, right Aid?”

First Aid clutched his lowgrade tightly and took a small sip. His diagnostics reported a 1% increase in fuel levels, with trace elements of aluminium and copper. His frame was fine – not even a scorch mark on it, and fully fuelled. Only a joor had passed in the Ark.  
“Yea. There was a tower – it was the only thing with light around it anywhere – the only option was to jack in, or walk back into the dark.” It was still so real to him. It was absurd to think he’d just been lying around on the Ark floor with Vortex – just unconscious. 

“Obviously a sign of two incompatible signals trying to work in unstable conditions.” Perceptor nodded.  
“Safety precautions to keep all that data safe, of course.” Wheeljack said. The two scientists shared an annoyed glance.

“Wheeljack please, a library program would never be so incompatible with your machine as to-.”

“I’m telling you Perce it’s to keep people away from the information! If you step in the dark it throws you out, thus keepin’ all those secrets nice ‘n safe-”

The two scientists continued to argue over their own preferred versions of the truth, and First Aid relished in the presence of his Gestalt, the functionality of his diagnostics, and the bright lights that lit up the rec room.  
Back in a well lit brigcell, Vortex did the same.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was based on a game - can anyone guess which one? I like to think I disguised it well enough for it to be hard to figure out ;)  
> I knew what I wanted to do from the very beginning but it took quite a few complete redo's to get to something I felt comfortable my Secret Solenoid might like. I would have loved to add the bonus points of shipping them and adding some nsfw, but my muse only allowed for some suggestive Vortex 'flirts' ;) I hope you enjoyed your gift Ultharkitty! I was excited to get you because I admire your mad writing skillz! 
> 
> The ending was a difficult thing to get right, and it might be a little rushed because I was running out of time ^^; I hope it didn't dampen anyone's enjoyment of the story! 
> 
> I have a small Transfomers Discord for anyone who wants to chat! Perhaps I'll see you there? https://discord.gg/VsvC255


End file.
